


On Your Knees

by darkforetold



Series: Mirrors [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dubious Consent, Humiliation, M/M, Masturbation, Possibly Unrequited Crush, Power Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2019-03-19 02:04:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13694583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darkforetold/pseuds/darkforetold
Summary: Jesse gets ignored afterthe incident.Commander Gabriel Reyes, god among men, was a fucking asshole.Afterthe incidentback at the motel, Reyes had completely ignored him. No lingering touches while he and Reyes sparred like he’d expected; no backward glances when Jesse passed by him in the hall. No special treatment during assignments. Reyes hadn’t even spoken a word to him, other than his usual bark of orders. Nothing had changed.Jesse wasfurious.





	On Your Knees

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my darling beta @rosewrought.
> 
> Bonus Prompt: Kink - Power Dynamics
> 
> (Also, please read the warnings and make sure you're okay with them before reading! <33)

Commander Gabriel Reyes, god among men, was a fucking asshole.

After _the incident_ back at the motel, Reyes had completely ignored him. No lingering touches while he and Reyes sparred like he’d expected; no backward glances when Jesse passed by him in the hall. No special treatment during assignments. Reyes hadn’t even spoken a word to him, other than his usual bark of orders. Nothing had changed.

Jesse was _furious_.

—which was how Jesse found himself in the secluded dark of Reyes’ private quarters late one night. He’d checked Reyes’ schedule and discovered he’d be at some important meeting with the UN, that his rooms would be vacant, and that everyone would be on their best behavior, abiding by the curfew for once and leaving the halls empty. It’d been too easy to break into the electronic lock on Reyes’ door. Short-circuiting even the most complicated locks had been his job in Deadlock back in the day, and he’d been damn good at it.

Inside, Reyes’ private quarters were clean and tidy. His bed was made to military standards, the files on his desk in a neat pile, in alphabetical order, with his tablet tucked into a drawer. Even miscellaneous office supplies found themselves separated strategically in a drawer organizer. Everything was precise like a surgical blade, a little sterile without the softness of personal effects. No pictures, no plants, nothing to reveal that anyone with a heartbeat lived here at all. The only thing that broke the severity of the room’s bland personality and impersonal nature was the thread of— _something_ coming from the bathroom.

Reyes’ cologne.

The fading ghost of it—spicy, a base note of delicate powder—touched him in places he wanted to ignore. It slid against his skin and kissed the side of his neck, and Jesse took a deep breath and filled his lungs with _Gabriel_. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment. Even without being here, Reyes had command over his dick, which had betrayed him and thickened considerably. He thought about jerking off here in Reyes’ bathroom as some sort of petulant revenge, but decided against it and left instead, closing the door behind him.

Then he waited.

And waited.

Jesse sat tentatively on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest to appear tough, then rearranged himself to lay on the bed, sprawled out like he fucking owned it. He could imagine Reyes’ face when he came in, seeing his subordinate on the mattress like a sacrifice. In a moment of weakness, he wondered if he should flip over on all fours, ass up, so there’d be no question as to what he wanted. He settled for inhaling the scraps of cologne off Reyes’ pillow and imagined nuzzling his neck, tasting his skin, fuc—

The door slid open.

Jesse flung himself straight up to his feet, a goddamn soldier waiting for his commander. Habits were hard to break—and so, as if on cue, like it always did whenever Reyes was around, his dick filled until it ached in his off-duty pants. His heart hammered in his throat so hard he thought he might throw up—and Reyes hadn’t even entered the room yet.

Reyes walked in slowly, fingertips lingering on the door, like he was assessing the situation before fully committing to whatever fuckery this was. And when Reyes saw him, straight as a rod, just inches from his bed, his expression didn’t change from _annoyingly unreadable_. He just closed the door with a resounding click. The sound alone skittered up Jesse’s spine, dooming him to the fate of his stupid, stupid choices.

Even with an intruder in his private rooms, Reyes didn’t commit to a response, only stood there like a statue, carved from the most precious and expensive marble by an artist who’d worshipped every curve and cut of his body. He was clothed, head to toe, in dress uniform; dark slacks molded to his muscled thighs, his angular hips, and if Jesse could see behind him, his perfect, hard ass. The jacket lay comfortably over his broad shoulders, the glittering medals eerie in the moonlight coming in from the windows. His tie and crisp white shirt were as stern and unforgiving as he seemed to be in that moment, his expression having caught up to the situation at hand. The frown on his brow, the way it made the hard lines of his face even harder—it was worse than dying out in the field. Being blown to bits would’ve been better than this.

Jesse doubted everything he was.

He shifted with uncertainty, then admonished himself and straightened up, shoulders straight and rigid. He matched Reyes’ frown with one of his own, letting him know who exactly was the ranking officer in his private rooms—but it all fell to pieces when Reyes, a small smile sliding onto his lips, began to undress. The jacket went first, and when Reyes tossed it aside irreverently, Jesse’s bravado went with it. His tough-guy posture broke down, and his eyes were wide with anticipation. He didn’t doubt he was drooling.

Reyes untied the tie slowly, thick fingers nimble, and the two ends hung loosely around his neck until he dragged it off with a hiss of fabric against fabric. Another careless throw, and the tie crumpled lifelessly to the floor. Jesse must’ve missed Reyes unbuttoning his shirt half-way, because suddenly his throat was exposed, the elegant curve of his collarbones there for all to see. He wondered if Reyes’ pulse was tattooing Morse code against his skin like his was, or if it was as unrattled as his expression made Jesse believe.

He watched Reyes step forward, devouring the space between them. His breath hitched when a waft of his cologne reached out to curl against his skin, his eyes fluttering again when their nearness—even a few feet apart—became too much for his senses. Jesse wanted to sink to the floor and submit, bare his throat, spread his legs—anything and everything Reyes wanted. His whole entire body _ached_ with it.

“McCree,” Reyes said finally, tone… condescending. Like Jesse had simply gotten _lost_.

That’s when everything changed.

Jesse collected pieces of his bravado and tightened his resolve. He frowned, crossed his arms over his chest and cocked his hips. Fully, entirely sick of his bullshit. “Reyes,” he returned flatly.

Reyes slipped his hands into the pockets of his slacks, his composure as stoic and unfeeling as his face. He arched a dark brow, expecting Jesse to explain _why the fuck_ he was in his private quarters.

“Thought I’d come by t’see why you been ignorin’ me lately—with how you jerked me off the other night ‘an all.”

Reyes arched both his brows. “A conversation that could’ve been conducted anywhere, agent.” His tone was arrogant. “Yet, here we are, in my private quarters—that you broke into. _At night_.” It was Reyes’ turn to cross his arms over his broad chest. “A _thank you_ card would’ve been more effective. Less dangerous.”

Jesse had the audacity to snort. “You weren’t _that_ good,” then, remembering, he sarcastically added, “ _sir_.”

“A lot of attitude coming from a subordinate that’s broken about five rules already.”

“Kinda thinkin’ they’d overlook ‘em, seein’ as you fucked your subordinate,” Jesse returned easily. “How long you been wantin’ t’do that, by the way, hm? Just up and grabbin’ my dick?”

“How long have you been wanting me to? Lot longer, I’d suspect.”

Jesse laughed at him. “You got some balls thinkin’ I’d want t’ fuck you, Reyes.”

“That so?”

Reyes smiled, so smug that Jesse wanted to punch him in the mouth, then did the unthinkable. He stepped forward and snuffed out the last bit of distance between them, so close that his body heat pressed in on him suffocatingly.

“It’s written all over your face every time I see you,” Reyes whispered. “I can _hear_ your heartbeat, you know that, don’t you? The way it thunders when I get close to you. Your breath hitches, your skin flushes…” Reyes brushed his lips against his ear. “If I touched you right now, would you come?”

It took everything in Jesse McCree to bite down his groan. All he wanted to do was lean into him and surrender, but instead, he looked Reyes dead in the eyes—the man he’d die for—and said, “You sure are a cocky little fuck, ain’t’cha, _sir_? That mouth o’yours—“ Jesse whistled low. “—sure is gonna get you in trouble one day, mark my words. Shoulda stuck my dick in it a long time ago. S’the only way you’re gonna shut up, huh?”

Reyes sucked in a breath. His pupils blew wide.

“Get on your fuckin’ knees.”

The air grew cold, stagnant, and time stood still. Reyes stared at him long and hard, contemplating life’s greatest mystery for what seemed like an eternity. Jesse could almost see the gears turning in his head. He watched Reyes wage wars with himself. In varying degrees, Reyes began to fall apart. The stoic expression on his face caved in, and his frown made him seem all the more severe. All of his composure unraveled as if Jesse had pulled the thread that held it together. Reyes clenched fists at his sides, his breath shuddering under Jesse’s hard, authoritative gaze. And slowly, ever so slowly, Reyes inched down to his knees and looked up at him in expectation.

Jesse let out a ribbon of air, calm and collected, while his insides somersaulted and his heart soared. He had his commanding officer _on his fucking knees_. He thought himself a goddamn _king_ , a fucking god, and the adrenaline kicking around in his veins made him feel invincible. Untouchable.

_Greedy_.

“Open that pretty mouth of yours. See if we can’t fix that talkin’ problem.”

Reyes clenched his jaw instead, defiance flinting in his dark eyes. Jesse floundered for a moment, searching his face, which told him nothing. How much could he get away with? How far was Reyes willing to go? He wondered at which point he’d be called in for insubordination, then decided he didn’t fucking care.

He struck Reyes with a soft-palmed slap. The crack reverberated and sounded ugly on the cold, stark walls.

“You disobeyin’ an order? I said open your goddamn mouth.”

The blow had turned Reyes’ head to the side; whether he’d allowed it or not, Jesse didn’t know. Those dark eyes looked at him out of the corners, a predatory stare that had Jesse’s dick splurting out precome and wetting his pants. Reyes dropped his eyes a degree to his crotch as if he could smell it, then ticked his gaze up to match his own. Then a smile curled his lips and made Jesse shudder, wanting—no, _needing_ —Reyes to comply.

In the end, he did.

Reyes unhinged his jaw and opened it modestly, to which Jesse had the gall to snort and say, “Ain’t gonna fit in there, sweetheart.” Jesse hooked a thumb into his cheek and pinch-pulled. “Open a little wider.”

He must’ve taken it too far. Reyes bit down on his thumb, and Jesse jerked it away, instinctively coming in with another slap; this time open-palmed and hard, ready to hurt. Reyes caught his wrist with relaxed fingers, and the urge to crush bone was there—Jesse could see it in his eyes. Instead, Reyes simply let it go as a warning, leveling him with a stare that could kill. Jesse would normally hesitate putting his dick in a lion’s mouth, but then again, he wasn’t thinking quite straight, was he?

Jesse fumbled with his pants, undoing and lowering enough to get his painfully hard dick out. He gave it a few strokes, and it drew Reyes’ attention, dark brown eyes filled with something he couldn’t name. Maybe it was desire, and Reyes’ dream of sucking his dick was coming true—or maybe it was a reckoning. He didn’t care.

He reached for the nape of Reyes’ neck and was met with a backhand, aborting the grab. He tried to lay a hand on Reyes’ shoulder for leverage instead but that was shrugged off too. So Jesse, without much of a choice, simply stood there, holding his dick, hoping Reyes would sink down on it—not how he had imagined any of this.

But Jesse McCree never imagined having Reyes on his knees at all.

Reyes’ breath puffed against his swollen head, and his dick dribbled again, the salty bead of come there for the taking. Jesse watched as Reyes snaked out a tongue to lap it up, and had to bite his own cheek to keep himself from coming already. Jesse struggled to keep his breath calm, and no doubt Reyes heard, what with the way he teased Jesse’s dick with his tongue, circling around the crown and dipping into the slit. Jesse dropped his head back, whispered, “Fuck,” and gripped his cock hard in some half-hearted effort to keep himself under control. When Reyes wrapped his warm, wet mouth around him, his world fell apart.

This was all he’d ever wanted, and he was _crazy_ with it.

Jesse abandoned all sense and grabbed the back of Reyes’ head, thrusting his dick deep into Reyes’ mouth, taking every inch he’d allow. Reyes gagged on the suddenness of it and growled, which only made everything _worse_. The sound traveled up his shaft, tickled his balls—and Jesse rode that sensation like a wild animal, bucking his hips and fucking Reyes’ mouth and throat with an abandon he hadn’t known since he was a teenager. His groans were loud and theatrical, breath ragged. He fucked his commander—he was _fucking his commander_ —as hard and as quickly as he could. If Reyes was resisting, he didn’t notice, too fucked up in his brain to think.

But Reyes _did_ object, and it finally registered—when Jesse somehow ended up face down on the bed.

Dizzy, disorientated, Jesse barely heard Reyes coughing above him, roughly clearing his throat as if getting his mouth fucked had been _too much_. Mortification flushed Jesse’s cheeks and the gravity of it all came crashing down. He opened his mouth to pacify him, apologize, but Reyes was one step ahead of him. The hand in his hair tightened and twisted painfully, forcing his head hard into the mattress. The covers muffled his surprise, crumpled and thick in his mouth, while Reyes rucked up his black T-shirt to his shoulders, bearing his back to the cold room. The bed dipped, and Jesse felt Reyes’ knee slide snug against his ribs. With Jesse like this, bent over the side of the bed, Reyes loomed half-standing, half-kneeling. Hardly a position to fuck him in.

Anticipation killed him.

A belt buckle rattled, a zipper hissed. The sound of fabric shifting. He couldn’t see, but he could hear—and smell. Reyes’ musk hit his nose, and Jesse groaned. Desperate, he struggled under the hand that held him down, broke past the mountain of covers that hid his face and whispered, “Fuck me. Please. Goddamnit, that’s all I want.”

Fingers tightened in his hair, angled his head into the mattress again. “Shh,” fell over him like an order and Jesse shut his mouth. Behind him, above him, he didn’t know where, he could hear the sound of wet skin on skin, blazing heat so close to the small of his back. Reyes was jacking off, barely touching him. The realization had him reeling, his brain frying every cell. After all this, he wouldn’t get fucked—and it killed him.

_Please. Just fuck me. Please._

Reyes continued to fuck himself over him, so close, and Jesse dipped his hand lower to his own dick, just to touch, to sweep fingers over the head so he could come. God, he just wanted to come. But Reyes’ commanding, “No,” had his hand jerking away, and Jesse tucked it under his chin instead. That heat at the small of his back—if he could just—Jesse rolled his spine, undulating his body like a serpent, and angled the top of his ass toward the source of the heat. Coarse hair prickled his skin—Reyes’ _balls_ heavy, hotter than anything he’d ever felt, dragging against his ass. Jesse called out with it, and above him, grunting, jerking, Reyes came—

—all over his back. Come splattered over his spine, drooled down his sides, so hot, so fucking good. He wanted to taste it, but with Reyes’ hands in his hair, he still couldn’t move. Then it happened: Reyes’ fingers loosened, gentled and carded his hair in a way that left Jesse breathless. The backs of two fingers brushed the nape of his neck, his shoulder, his side—it was an absent-minded gesture as Reyes stood up, but one that seared the walls of his mind. For a moment, Jesse pretended Reyes loved him, felt _anything_ for him, and he _ached_. But the ache went away and, with his brain still drugged with _fuck me_ , Jesse began to rut against the side of the bed just to _get off_.

“Get out,” was the only thing that got him to move.

Jesse said nothing as he hightailed it out into the hallway, shutting the door on his way out of Reyes’ room. Right there for anyone to see, Jesse grabbed himself and fucked into his fist—once, twice. He came with an urgent shout all over his fingers, in his pants, on the floor. His orgasm left him wobbly, exhausted, and with Reyes’ come rolling slowly down his back, he stood there lost, ashamed.

Defeated.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> (If I missed a tag, please let me know! <33)


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